


Amply Broken

by engelhardtramon



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Absurd, Angst, Comedy, Communism, Crack, Crack and Angst, Cringe, Cruelty, Dark, Dark Comedy, Dark Crack, Depression, Dialogue Heavy, Drama, Emo, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Female Protagonist, Friendship, Fun, Funny, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Major Character Injury, Major Original Character(s), Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Nonsense, Not Serious, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Male Character, POV Multiple, POV Original Character, POV Third Person, Parody, Politics, References to Depression, Satire, Slapstick, Started As A Parody, Suicide Attempt, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Trolling, Work In Progress, is not a heavy story like those tags imply, pls don't take seriously, tags are merely tw, turned into a political satire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 18,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engelhardtramon/pseuds/engelhardtramon
Summary: I am Kaithleen, a 14-year-old depressed girl who hides a dark secret...When night falls, I like to run across the streets without looking left and right, hoping to be run over someday. The only driving force in my life is waiting for the day I die. I scream, but no one hears me.Especially at school, I am constantly reminded of this bleak reality: I'm surrounded by idiots!The perfect manual for understanding this mental cancer is:Step 1: laughStep 2: Step 1ThankLots of love, Engelhardt and Ramon
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. My Sad Life

**Author's Note:**

> Support our shitposts on Insta and Wattpad: @amplybroken
> 
> Hi! We're Engelhardt and Ramon, an artist-/writer-duo who are trying to be funny. "Amply Broken" is a freetime project, so updates will be irregular.
> 
> TW: dark humor, slapstick, suicide/depression mention, depression, nonsense, bone-shattering cringe

If you are reading this, you have probably ignored my warning.

My name is Kaithleen Darko and I'm 14 years old. When night falls, I philosophize about the worthlessness of life and the horrifying reality of this world. Sometimes, I don't look left and right before crossing the road and dream of the day I get run over.  
I often fall in love with fictional boys, watch manga, read anime (duh) and my dream is to die of a heart attack.

I hate, HATE girls who defile their faces with a hundred layers of make-up. They always want to pimp themselves up like a Barbie doll, but in reality they look about as good as Donatella Versace after her thirtieth plastic surgery.  
And flashy girly pink. When I see this color, I get irrationally irritated. It's the most monotonous, ugliest color.

I love deep, deep black. It mirrors my mind perfectly - dark and empty. The darkness knows me as good as no other. Sometimes, I think that I'm cursed and the gods gave me a special flaw when I was born.  
Perhaps I am too profound, too intellectual to communicate with people less gifted than me. And perhaps because I am too smart, nobody can reach my feelings. I don't know.

I don't look left and right as always when I cross the street. I hear cars honking. Imbecilic humans. You are fools!!!!111!!!

The school seems so gray and bleak as ever. A place, a jail. Not a place where anyone could understand me. I am, as always, a loner in this world. It seems like this would never change.

I see bored faces and immediately sense the urge to cry for help. I feel caged and no one notices my anguish. I really want to get out of here before I go down under this boredom. Helppp!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Julius Plato S. my savior1111!!! Deliver me from this place!!!11!!

The other students don't know anything about us, not even you. Idiots. I take out my phone and the picture of a full-bearded man greets me. Julius Plato S. My teacher. The only reason why I still chill with those ugly students.

"Hey, bro. Do yo have sum fire?"

"Quiet! My heart already belongs to someone else!1!", I shout filled with rage, "YEETUS THAT FEETUS!!!11!!"

"Bro, whatcha have on yo phone?"

Manuel ogles MY Julius Plato S. Outraged, I yeet my phone into his cake hole.

"Woooah bra, that hit like Boomer's fat burritos.", he says, staring uglily and absentmindedly at the ceiling.

"Helppp, I am being hit on!11!!1!", I punch him again.

There he is! My rescue! Julius Plato S. runs towards me.

"What are you for a cruel human being! One does not hurt innocents, Kaithleen!"

"No. This face was in need of a fist like mine for he had tainted your honor! I had no other choice."  
I pick up my phone and show him the picture.

He replies with a sigh.

"Kaithleen, I am happily married, have ten kids, seven of them are over thirty, my son is in college, I am fifty years old and besides, I only like ripe 80-years-old women."  
"Then I'll wait till I'm 80 and marry you at the funeral."

It was too much. Manuel's advances, Julius Plato S.'s preference for 80-year olds. I broke down.

I sit on the ground and cry bitter tears. Why? Why?! I run away, no one follows me - idiots! I run across the road again without looking left or right and sadly don't get run over. Misfortune is following me.

My room is empty and cold. A Nirvana poster is hanging on the wall and on the other is XXXTentacion's.

I turn up the music so loud until it feels like my feelings are suffocated.  
"Wake me up! Wake me up inside!"  
My mother tears the door open. She, too, doesn't understand me. No one does. "TURN DOWN THE MUSIC!!11!"  
Her grunts are like that of a pig's.

"Mom, please, at least try to understand my sorrow!"  
A deluge of tears floods from my eyes. I decided to write a list of things that I hate.

My pen squeaks while I write.

Things I hate:

• My Mother

• Me :(

• Julius Plato S.'s wife

• Dumb People

• All People

• Julius Plato S.'s sons

• Cougars (Over 80)

• Being happy. This is impossible.

• Babys. They don't cry enough.

• Manuel. He hit on me.


	2. Never Ogle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Support our shitposts on Insta and Wattpad: @amplybroken
> 
> Hi! We're Engelhardt and Ramon, an artist-/writer-duo who are trying to be funny. "Amply Broken" is a freetime project, so updates will be irregular.
> 
> TW: dark humor, slapstick, suicide/depression mention, depression, nonsense, bone-shattering cringe

After my heart has somewhat recovered from the pain, I feel ready to go to school again. My scooter is my loyal vehicle.  
As soon as I arrive, I am greeted by a grin.

My heart becomes embittered when I see him. Not Manuel again… I hate him.  
"Aye, yo, gotta joint?"  
I sigh and imagine myself lighting this building on fire and dancing Macarena on it.  
"Quiet! Cease thy petulant follies!"  
Suddenly, another idiot of his kind gollies by.  
"Bro, Lemme… lemme puff, too."  
I step on his ugly Nike Airs. He screams like a dying cat.  
"HOLY MOTHER OF GOD- one gram for 400 Benjamins?!!!"  
Idiots.

I make a sweeping movement in the direction of the school building. "Chop, chop. Go to school. It will at least do you some good.", I say while contemplating if their hashish consumption might have already eaten their brains like fat man Boomer chomps his burritos.

I open the classroom door and walk into Julius Plato S.'s arms. His scream is as jarring as a power drill, "Kaithleen, safety distance!"  
He shoves me away.

Crying, I walk to my seat. Fat Manuel laughs at me from the other end of the classroom.

"Quiet, ye plonkers! Thou art nothing but motes of dust in this infinite cosmos!"

"Shut up! Your mom is a cosmos!"

His shrill scream penetrates the smooth sensory hairs in my eardrums. Outraged, I fall from my chair. Julius Plato S. ignores me, visibly disgusted.

"Today, dear class...", he begins while picking a pimple on his arm, "We'll talk about the values of life and things that make us content."

"I only know alcohol content. Hehehehehehe.", Manuel laughs, then starts to cry.

Like always, I am the only intellectual in the room and point up my finger,  
"Life has no meaning, babe."

"I didn't pick you, Kaithleen…"

"Just because you don't want to hear it, doesn't mean it's wrong!11!1"

Julius Plato S. rolls his eyes and scratches his foot.  
He starts anew, "Every human has something he values. His phone for example which is for entertainment, or... love."

The painful realization hit me as brutally as a sword piercing through my esophagus. Where are the things that make me happy? I have nothing, neither a phone nor the most important - I inhale - Julius Plato S.

"But the most important thing for a human is... happiness."  
I collapse.

I fall from my chair and lay lifeless on the ground. Then I roll around like an onigiri. My distorted scream echoes through time and space. I… I cannot take it anymore!!!!!

Arcane words resound in my head, "Wake me up! WAKE ME UP INSIDE!", and the world around me slowly fades to black.

"Bruh."

"Kaithleen, stop rolling around…"

"QUIET!!!! I have neither joy, nor a phone, nor any reason to abide in this cruel world! YOU ARE FOOLS!!!! BLOODY BUGGERS!!!!"

I sense fury creeping up my spine,"I WILL NOW BREAK THIS RULER!!!" I hurl and huff like a beast.

"No, Kaithleen. Put it down."

"WAHHHHH."

A battle, ruler against me. I lose. The ruler doesn't even dent.  
No! I break it in two. Then, the ruler catapults into my face. Truly, it hit like Boomer's fat burritos.

Manuel and Julius Plato S. laugh… I cry. Idiots.  
I yeet the ruler away, and it flies directly into Julius Plato S.'s eye.  
My heart stops.

I could never throw very well.

I remember how I accidentally gave my mother a black eye in the second grade because I took the saying "to get a black eye" too literally… My fist hit, truly, like boomer's fat burritos.

My mind implodes. I scream. I have just impaled the eye of Julius Plato S.! Like always life plays against me, just like the ruler did.

"Respect. He ain't ogling no more."  
"Soon, a certain someone isn't going to ogle any more as well!"  
"U wot? Who is certain someone? Dunno 'em."  
"WHY DON'T YOU ASK BOOMER!"  
"Bruuuh, dun push a boulder up a mountain, Sisyphus. Boomer is chillin' in the psychic asylum."

Julius curses with words I have never heard before,  
"WOLLY GOLLY NINNY SOP! HOLY DOLLY JABBERWOCKY!"  
I'm scared.

The memories of my past flash before my eyes. I remember... The second grade.

That time, we had to learn how to use scissors and how to handcraft a rubber stamp. Unfortunately, my mother taught me differently about the meaning of the word "rubber", so when I handed my craft in, the teacher insulted it. I took the scissors. The rest is history. As far as I know, he's in a better place now. RIP in pieces.

"Call the ambulance!?!?!?", he shouts, desperately covering his eye (I'm not sure whether it's still in the socket). Somehow, I want to dance Macarena again…

"Manuel, I don't have a phone. You have to call!"

This idiot actually CALLS the ambulance.

"Ambulance, where are thou~~~ ?"

The 400$ drugs are really kicking, huh.

"NO, YOU FOOL. YOUR PHONE. A DEVICE WHERE YOU CAN TYPE ARABIC NUMERICS!"

"Wut, what Arabic numerics. I only have American ones. Racist!"

Julius Plato S. faints, probably due to blood loss. I don't know. Perhaps, it's because he realized how pretty I am. UWU

"Hello?", the ambulance man asks curiously.

"I need an ambulance!", I reply on Manuel's phone.

"Here is the police…"

"Hello, I want to arrest someone. Some moron got murdered. What a douche.", Manuel shouts from the back.

"We need an ambulance man!!1!"

The police dude hangs up. I weep. It's too much. Manuel's prank, Julius Plato S.'s curses. I broke down! Help!

The fat dumb stoned cretin tears the phone off my hand,  
"Bro, we better hide the corpse. Cousin Boomer has just the right weed cave under his burrito joint."

"I only want my corpse!", I cry.

Mister Julius Plato S. regains his consciousness again.  
"Corpse?", he asks flabbergasted.

"Yo, shit. Kate, no problem."

He hits Julius Pluto S.'s head with the broken ruler, knocking him out immediately.

"Now, he’s dead. Here is your corpse."

"No, this isn't true!! Do you know what you have just done?!"

I sit on the floor and scream,  
"WAKE ME UP! WAKE ME UP INSIDE! CAN'T WAKE UP!!!!"

You could hear me scream as far as Africa. I could have sworn, a bag of rice just fell over in China.


	3. Breakdown Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Support our shitposts on Insta and Wattpad: @amplybroken
> 
> Hi! We're Engelhardt and Ramon, an artist-/writer-duo who are trying to be funny. "Amply Broken" is a freetime project, so updates will be irregular.
> 
> TW: dark humor, slapstick, suicide/depression mention, depression, nonsense, bone-shattering cringe

It's over. My life is over. Julius, he is... he is vacationed.

I stare aghast at his young and blond substitute. Mrs. Tomie enters the classroom. 

Manuel is ogling her as if she was a joint. I have a strange feeling. I don't know why.

"Dear class, today I will substitute you in Philosophy because Julius Plato S. had a small accident yesterday. Since you apparently haven't adhered to safety rules, we'll do a crash course about safety in school again.", she says energetically and drops a thick folder on the table.

"Well, my darlings. What is this?"  
She points to a picture.

"Scissors!", Manuel replies. I swear, drool is running down from the corner of his mouth.  
"This is for cutting!"

"Wow, I didn't know that scissors are for cutting..." I roll my eyes.

"Aww, sweetie, don't talk in the lessons!", she exhorts motherly and pats my shoulders.

I want to break her arm and hang it up as a trophy. You will suffer. I will put your skull into my collection. I will throw your insides on your neighbor's door as a warning.

"Ah-hahahaha! Mrs. Tomie, you really have caught me red-handed!", I giggle, "Like your Botox doctor caught you with the wrong needle."

A short silence.

"Ooh, I'm just kidding. Oh- my pen!", I let my pen roll down the table edge.

"Oh, no! I will pick it up for you..."  
She crawls under the table and I kick her in the face.  
"Oops, reflexes."

She holds her bloody nose.  
"I'll bring a handkerchief!", Manuel smarms and frantically takes out a handkerchief from his bag.  
"Oh, thank you, guys. You are such nice students!", she smiles while her nose promises a massacre.

She stands up again and Manuel gives her the handkerchief. Manuel, you fool! You deal with the devil. THE DEVIL! I sense the urge to dance Macarena on his grave.

She smiles and begins her lesson anew. "Today, we will talk about bliss. What is bliss for you guys?"  
When you miserably burn.

Manuel points his finger up, "To have you as my wife!"  
Where is his gangster voice? He has a wide grin on his face as if he had just finished a stamp card at Boomer's burrito joint.  
"Well, bliss is the sweet embrace of death.", I answer.  
"Ehhh, what... ?"

"I meant what I said."

She brushes it off and clears her throat, "I think bliss is when you fill the dark empty void which you'll always have inside you as good as you can with what you have."  
"Hehe, try it with a joint.", Manuel snorts.  
I cry. My feelings are hurt.

"Um, hello?! She cri-ies!", Emo Ute, my best friend and only friend, says. She is my idol because I don't have the guts to become a Goth. The last time I tried to draw eye bags with a dark eyeliner, I slipped, and was rushed to the ER afterwards. Lol. 

Mrs. Tomie is overwhelmed and tries to calm me down.  
"O, Christmas treeeeee! O, Christmas treeeee! Your leaves are so unchanging!"

For a moment, I thought the janitor had revved up the lawnmower again. However, as always, I am damned by this incredibly cruel world. My ears start to bleed.

To my indescribable passion comes-  
"NOT ONLY GREEN WHEN SUMMER'S HEEEEREEEE!"  
The incredibly vomit-inducing voice of Manuel.  
Being shot would be more humane. I once heard that humans are being tortured with music somewhere. I bet it sound exactly the same.

That's it. I... can't take it anymore. I freak out!!!!!!11!!

"Mrs. Tomie, I will now rip out your vocal cords!!!!"  
"YAAAS QUEEN!", Ute riles me up while she does emo stuff, crying.

I somersault my way through the air and plunge into battle. Mrs. Tomie screams. This sounds even much more pleasant.

I break down - this time, literally.

I fly face-first onto the floor. Ohhh, this hit like an American munching a triple bacon McRib whopper at McDonalds. And not to forget - like Boomer's fat and scrumptious burritos. Oh, Boomer would be proud.

I start to cry. Emo Ute runs up to me and begins to cite her seven satanic heal spells.  
"Ogg ogg ogg ogg ogg ogg ogg!"  
I feel immediately... strange.  
I think they can't affect me because I am too smart.  
But Manuel cowers under the table, because he's, well, dumb.

"ARGO ARGO ARGO!" She screams at him. He laughs. He has no respect! I will kill him first!

"Children, please, sit down! Ute, darling, will you pleeease cite your curses after the lesson, hm?", she smiles. She is surely imbecilic. Truly foolish!

Mrs. Tomie comes closer to Emo Ute. Suddenly, Emo Ute takes out her broom - a witch broom - and rubs it into her cake hole as if it was a toothbrush.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHHA." Weird noises. Is it normal to scream this stupidly when you have a broom in your mouth?

I walk to the door.  
"Ute, come! We aren't needed here anymore!"

Mrs. Tomie smiles, a few bristles are stuck between her teeth.

"EGG EGG EGG EGG RAHAHAHA KRKKRK!" Emo Ute climbs onto the broom and jumps around. I snap.

I take a scissor and run towards Manuel. I do a backflip, a side roll, a cartwheel and finally deliver my punch.

Manuel laughs, "You do know that you've just spun around on the floor like a kebab skewer, hehe?"

I drag Ute to the door. Enough for today. Byeee.


	4. Troubled Relations

Ute and I walk past my mother in dismay. She smiles.  
"Hey, you two."  
Ute screams, "Rak Fakcsu, GO AWAY!"

My mother lets out a confused laugh and quickly returns to the stove, muttering "Freaaak." under her breath.

I plunge on my bed and turn the ghetto blaster on.  
"WAKE ME UP! WAKE ME UP INSIDE!!!!"  
Ute begins to cry and dances.

I hear footsteps from outside. Someone opens the door.  
"Quiet."

Ute jumps back and loses her Pentagram. It rolls and stops before Diablo's feet, my stupid big brother. He simply shrugs and leaves the room.

Ute grips her chest, her heart beating to the rhythm of Linkin Park's "Crawling in my Skin."  
"Oof, my cold black heart!"  
She cites her seven satanic healing spells again, but they don't seem to work.

"Ogg ogg ogg ogg ogg ogg ogg!"

I hear my brother's suppressed coughing from his room.

"He hears you…", I whisper, incredibly upset and disgusted by the fact that she has fallen in love with my deadpan brother. I hate my life.

This time, I hear tiny feet toddling towards my room.  
No... not my foolish little sister!

"Kate, Kate! I want to play Barbie!"

Disgusted, Ute turns her head to my small sister.

"HAVE YOU GONE INSANE? Barbie is a sexist product of the modern market and destroys the self-esteem of fat and ugly little girls like you! YOU WILL DIE! SHE WILL DESTROY YOU FROM WITHIN!"

“Okay. UWU”, my foolish little sunny sister replies.  
"Be careful, her stupidity might be contagious!", I whisper to Ute who is still absent-minded from the word "Barbie". 

I think she still remembers her trauma from when she was in the sixth grade.

She played with a pregnant doll and noticed that you could open the belly. The plastic child fell directly into her mouth and since then she harbors a natural hate against everything that is plastic or pregnant. Sad life.

"B… but Kateeeee… I want to playyyyy…"  
Ute starts to cite more satanic spells. This time no healing spells, but an attack!!

“Fesjgkla! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-- fihgdsrhf!!11!”

"I think she has a stroke... Whatever."

My fat sister throws a Barbie head right into Ute's face. I could have sworn Ute tucked her head in like a turtle then did a 360 degrees kebab skewer slow motion spin.  
Ute is a very special girl…

Diablo comes back again and stands in the middle of the room without context,  
"Quiet, please. Thanks."  
I heard speakers at the track with more emotion in their voice.

Frightened, Ute clings on his legs. My wood log brother slowly pushes her away. I rageeee!!11111!!!!!!!!!!!!

I do a double backflip, triple somersault, and Chuck Norris-like, I deliver a punch. My big brother takes a step to the side. I also fly Chuck Norris-like against the wall. I break down- again, literally.

Ute is not impressed by my show and clings to the severed Barbie head like a baby monkey and cries.  
"Diablo, why!???"  
Not even a love potion could help her. She storms out of the room.

I flip again!!!!!! My marble brother looks at me without a crumb of emotion. I grab his leg and try to drag him to the ground. In vain.  
"Oops."  
He slowly pushes me away. I start to cry.

My sister holds the severed Barbie body in front of my face this time. That stupid piece of plastic is wearing a white wedding dress. If Ute had seen that...  
I hate my life.

She jumps onto my limp body.  
"WEEE! Now Kathi is a doll, too!"  
"No, you are just a silly little girl, blinded and brainwashed by society and its useless problems! Don't you dare trample on me! NOOOOOOOOO!" I shout at my disfavor with intensified rhetorical means.

This cheap sunshine imitation smiles. She is stupid, she does not understand anything yet.  
"If father was still alive, he would have killed himself because of you!"  
"Oh, wow. UWU"

Suddenly the dragon queen, my mother, barges into my room. She would spit fire if she could. She stares at me like a woman rejected by the greasy men from "The Bachelor" show.

"HOLY MOTHER MARY AND BOTHERATION! SHUT UP, NOW I'M TALKING!!!!!!!!!!111!"  
"B... b... but Mommmmmmy." I feel fear crawling up my back like a snake, wrapping itself around my neck and pulling tighter and tighter. The trembling of my hand betrays me. No. Don't show any weakness in front of this monster. I am strong!

"Sorry, Sensei...", I draw energy from the air into my clenched fists, "ORA ORA ORA ORA!"  
"Wtf...."  
I plunge into my mother's fat pudding. I am thrown back. It sure packed - like Boomer’s fat burritos. She probably munched too many of them.

My tragic story follows me around like a shadow. It seems to get darker around me. I reach out for the last shriveled flower of hope. I will never give up... I'll succeed! And damn, I will! With the power of the moon, I will PUNISH you!

With all my bundled strength, I ram my head into the creases of my mother's chin. I bounce back again and hit my back against the wall. I break down.  
At that moment, I thought of the words of my grandfather,

"It can always get worse."

Yeah, you're right. I cry bitter tears.


	5. Artherosclerosis

It should be a normal day. As always, I have not been run over yet. As always, I feel the cold touch of death on my shoulders.

School beckons at me in gray. Today, it should be different.

"HEY GUYS! SKSKSK! Oh, I don't even know you yet! Wow! Such pretty hair!"

She grins at me outrageously widely with her perfect straight teeth. I am dazzled by her enamel. Clearly polished with Mr. Clean (No Product Placement lol).

"I hate you. You're one of those foolish Mary Sues who put three kilos of makeup on their faces. Get away from me, you female ogre! Hide yourself and your hydro flask!!!11!!!1", I scream at this glittering creature.

“No offense, gurl. See u later, alligator!”

She stretches out her tongue and then walks towards the school building.

I feel wrath burning inside me like a spicy Mexican burrito, but one day after eating. I hate her so much, I can't even put it into words for you (Hello reader UwU).

I almost puked on another ugly stupid dog walking past me.

Manuel stares at this Mary Sue, drooling, truly, like a role model for subhumans. My Mexican breakfast almost flooded down his head. 

"Dang, wowie. Hehe, she’s mine.", says the nincompoop and turns to me.

"I. Am. Not. Interested. In. Your. Mental. Rubbish. You. Ogre. Son. Of. A. Pig. Mother."

"Wut?"  
He really seems to ponder. I wonder what part of my insult he couldn’t understand.

"Coo. Your mother is an ogre!"

My heart burns. I don't know why.

The sight of Manuel's half-open eyes and his still gaping mouth seems to cause atherosclerosis.  
A fly flies out of his mouth as my heart jumps out of my chest and finally falls into his mouth. Of course, only in a figurative sense... or how do you say it?

I think I am in love. Oh, Julius Plato S. Since you left, I feel emptiness inside me that can only be filled with love like I’m going to fill the toilet with Mexican food. Manuel, Manuel! Save me and my heart!

Emo Ute rushes towards me.

"Kaithleen, you've been standing in front of that dog pile for five minutes. You've stared at it enough already."  
"Shut up, Not-So-Foolish-One! My heart has been broken."  
Emo Ute starts to cry with me.   
"Ohhh nooo..."  
"Yes, Ute, there is an Over in Lover. And a ‘he’ in ‘She believed.’"  
Manuel scares me from behind.  
"Sbeve!"

Now he screwed up, but not as much as I did because I lost my heart to a mere pillock. I hate my life. 

The first lesson doesn't go the way I would have liked it to. I could not stop looking at Manuel. With every "hehe" from him, I could feel my face burning.  
However, life is playing against me. Manuel loves that VSCO chick.  
I cry softly, nobody hears me. Not even you, Manuel. Idiot.

Mrs. Tomie welcomes me with a broad grin. I think in reality, she is deeply depressed and tries to make sure that nobody else is as badly off as she is by smothering people with her warm words and gestures.  
But-  
"O, CHrIsTmAs TrEeEeEEEE!"  
She absolutely cannot…

I scream to drown out her horrible singing. It's futile. She continues singing,  
"YoUr LeAvEs ArE sO UnChAnGiNg."  
I imagined death less cruel.

Oh, Manuel! He sees how much I suffer, and yet he doesn't care. The VSCO girl laughs and helps her out with the singing.  
I look at Emo Ute with tears rolling down my face and whisper,  
"Black roses on the grave."  
She nods.

Emo Ute takes out her broom, a black one which she decorated with rose thorns. Then, tragedy ensues.

"GGGDKYÖAAP ARGOETHE BLITZ!"  
She hurls herself with full force onto the teacher's desk, destroying it in the process. Whether this was due to her fat body or the rotten table leg will certainly appear in an episode of X-Factor.

Mrs. Tomie's lament finally comes to an end, but Emo Ute does not stop. She freaks out like a wild bull and rams the withered broom head into Mrs. Tomie's ugly minger. I could have sworn two of Tomie's teeth were flung across the room and that Ute then greedily collected her lost blood in a jar for her next vampire youth meeting.

Manuel is still staring at this ugly sunshine and… Oh no!!!

"Sksksks, who are you?"

NO!!!

"Maaaaanuuuuuuuuuulllleee."

DID HE JUST FORGET HIS OWN NAME?!

"Um, nice... bottle?"

"And I ooop, that's a Hydro Flask! Save the turtles!"

I can't go on. I just can't go on. I fall over - in vain. I get caught on VSCO’s hydro flask and drag it down with me.  
"NOOOO THAT WAS FOR ZE TOADS!!!" Manuel shouts.

No!!!1! The whole content tips over me. I splash in the pseudo-scientific hydrogenating liquid and become a fish.

Ute finally rescues me and I wave to the class. I have the bad feeling that something exciting will happen next time...


	6. Donald Trump

Why is the world such a cruel place? I feel like I'm trapped in it. A huge cage and no end in sight. It goes on and on and on. Emo Ute smiles. She likes this kind of thinking.

Mrs. Tomie is absent today. Perhaps good will prevail in the end? But I am still discontent. The world curses me by the break of every new day. I'm in love with Manuel, but he has a crush on VSCO girl. But what about, oh, Mr. Julius Plato S.?

"Ahoy!! I came back from th' hospital motivated, arrrr." He has an eye patch and talks like a pirate.

I could have sworn he was going to scream that he couldn’t hear us. I would have loved to shout in his ear if he had wanted it that way.

But no, I cannot! I can't have two, not the stupid Manuel and the handsome Julius Plato S. at the same time.  
I'm not a machine, I'm a human being of flesh and blood!

What should I do? I sense a feeling that is suffocating me: Hopelessness. Why me?

"Sksksksks! Helllloooo, guys!! My name is Angela Merle, save the turtles!! And I ooop. Nice to meet you, Juliiuss, eeehhhh?"

"Arrrr. Ye be th' new sailor on board?"

"Aye aye captain!"

"I can’t hear ye!!!”

He really did it...

"OOOOOHH… O Christmas tree!"

No!!!11!!1! What is happening? Why is it happening to me? I'm collapsing!1!!!1! I would love to lie on the street now, but I never get run over. I look at Ute and throw myself on her. Then we both break down. I can't, I just can't!!

Julius Plato S. briefly ends his plaintive howling and looks at us with a malicious expression. It can't get any worse, I think, but I am very much mistaken.  
"Omae wa mou shindeiru!"

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT a Frenchman?!?!?!11?!", I scream. The hospital has sure destroyed his very soul.

"You are useless! MUDAMUDAMUDAMUDA!!", he shouts.  
I am shocked. Julius Plato S. has become an evil goblin.  
"Arrrr! Come here, ye sourpuss!!!!!1!!1!!1"

"Never! Before you do, you have to get my cold dead body first!"

The VSCO girl clears her throat.

"Attention please! Well, my hobbies are saving turtles with my paper skskstraw, watering the rainforests with my hydro flask and making and doing TikTok memes!”

Emo Ute's face recoils in disgust.

"Burn, you hydro-cow! Just like the rainforest because of your paper straw!!!!"

"Arrr, me crew! 'ave ye got an internship yet?"

"Aye, aye, captain!”, VSCO gleams.

"What?", I yell in confusion.  
The last time I felt this confused was when someone told me that my mother cooked my pet rabbit. I thought she bathed... without fur. In spite of everything, she tasted delicious. RIP Daisy.  
"He means the work experience sksksksk. And I oop, you forgot????”

"Arrr, sailor Kaithleen, 'ave ye chosen a deck t' swab?"

Julius Plato S. waves to me. I almost feel like crying.

"But, but, LORD JULIUS PLATO S.! I don't have an internship yet because I'm too smart for that!1!!1 :("

"Arrr, reportin' somethin' like that shall get ye across th' plank! Even sailor Manuel has a galleon in Boomer’s galley!"

"You're a galley!", Manuel snorts.

"Arr, then we'll 'ave t' reel in a ship on land!"

"Uhh... I guess Apple or something like that. YouTube would be good."

"The EVIL MARKET, Kaithleen! ARE YOU INSANE?!!1!!11! APPLE IS EVIL1!!11!"

Emo Ute shouts distraught and keeps hitting me with her rotten broom. My face is close to breaking.

"ARRRRR!!", shouts Julius Plato S.,  
"Th' noble pirate always dreams o' voyages around th' seven seas, but ye be certainly nah a pirate! Ye will loot care o' th' ole 'n th' young, as society willst."

Emo Ute jumps up in excitement.

"OMG! Into the kinder garden! We can beat up children together!!"

She looks funny when she smiles, like:

Donald Trump.

I'd rather work in Boomer's latrine and drown in dung than putting up a fake smile 24/7 and feeding mature women over 80. I hate them!!!!1!!1

"Arrrr, even a one-eyed ole pirate like me envies that ye still 'ave th' chance t' be surrounded by mature wenches. Had I only chosen a different profession!",  
Mr. Julius Plato S. cries bitterly.  
"Farrgin' sprogs.", he whispers.

"B-b-b-b-but... LORD JULIUS PLATO S. Have you, a teacher of Philosophy, never heard of Darwin’s evolution theory?!!!111!  
The weak, namely the old, are merely worn out shells of a once glorious generation whose heyday is long gone!!!1! They are only loading burdens on society and don't contribute anything now, thus making their very existence obsolete for the survival of humanity!!!1!"  
My lips are dried from the intensity of my speech.  
Julius Plato S. rolls his eyes.

I inhale deeply,  
"You will be my new enemy! I challenge you to a DUDUDUDUDDUEEEEELLLL!"  
There goes his other eye.

"She has a sksksksksks stroke! Heeeelp! Save the turtles!"  
"Arrrr, at 12 wit' cutlasses! May th' better cap'n win!"

Manuel finally gets a chance to speak.

"Um....." A witty remark.

I blush. He wants to protect me!1!!

"May I film? For YouTube?"

I feel my heart breaking. My will to resist is exhausted. I give up.  
"To the kids it is then..."

I don't want anymore. I can't. My soul has turned into a much darker black. I have lost everything. My head is pounding, I can't stand it anymore!!!1!!11

I turn to my last ray of hope. The road.  
Let's see if life goes on, or if God gives me the sweet release of death.

I feel how everything suddenly becomes much heavier, the gravity of reality pulling me to the center of the earth. I am really afraid of it, and I know that nobody can help me. Maybe not even myself.

No… There is still Manuel and Julius Plato S. There are always good sides in life. I must never let myself be brought down! Fight!

A Barbie bicycle along the toddler rides right into my face after this decision. What a shitty day.


	7. The Beginning of the Burrito Arc

I want to bastaboom onto my bed and just fall asleep and never wake up again. I feel the bruises... war wounds from the battle with the Barbie bike aching.  
Of course, I'm not so stupid as to say "it can't get any worse", because otherwise it will-

"Kaithleen."

I feel an icy breeze when my blockhead brother bursts into my room. With an equally cold and monotone voice he says,

"Mother wants burritos."

His voice sends cold shivers down my spine. The last time I was this scared was when he asked me to get into his candy truck. By candy truck he meant his normal car. He just tried to be funny ( T.T ) but I learned differently from my mother.

"Bugger off! Go forth, devil’s breath!!!11!"

I roar like a wild Dachshund. Diablo shrugs.

"Burritos. Now."  
Oh, I see.

I rush towards the door since I can already hear little clumsy feet coming closer and closer.

Too late.

"I want to come along!!!", my little sister jumps up and down excitedly.  
Oh no, not with me! I make a sharp left turn and a somersault - wait - shit - there is a wall on the left.

Ouch.

Foolish sunshine sister, she does nothing but trouble! I'm burning with fervor!!1!!

"Kate, Kate! I want to have Boomer’s fat burritos, but without onions! :)))"

Her shrill, high-pitched voice breaks through the sound barrier. My ears begin to bleed.

"NO, NO, NO!!!1! Boomer’s joint is a holy place, where disgusting demon hooves like yours shall never dare to impurify its sacred ground!1!!11! BOOMER HAS NO MERCY!!!!!1!111", I scream with all my might to fight against this little monster.

"Mother says you should keep your loose tongues to a minimum."

Is it just my imagination again or did it actually get colder?

I scream,  
"THERE IS THE STUPID COW!"  
And point to the TV behind her where Barbie is trashing Ken with gossip.

My sister begins to cry. She thinks I pointed at her...  
I use the opportunity to flee and tear the door open mercilessly. Then, I run into the street.

I finally made it! 

…

I forgot the money... T.T

I scream to the sky and recite my lament,  
"WAKE ME UP! WAKE ME UP INSIDE!!!11!"

After I had somewhat calmed down, I walked along the street.

Today feels kind of strange.  
It's like I'm caught in a movie.  
I turn left and enter the scene.

Manuel is standing on the right side of the street. His eyes are closed. It looks like he is trying not to cry.  
I see a car that looks like the one the police have. What had happened here! Fear overwhelms me.

Suddenly a gray-haired man with greasy hair stands behind me as if the good Lord had heard my call and sent me his messenger.

"What are you doing here, young lady? You are standing right in front of the cameras! This is the snapshot for my new hotel!"  
No, God has sent me a demon.

I run up to Manuel and take his hand into mine.  
"Don't despair."  
He looks at me with a glazed look and examines my trembling hand. I try to be strong, but the scene has already skewed into my heart like Vlad the Impaler did to the Ottomans.

With a newfound determination, I take Manuel into my arms and carry him away. I promise him security and that I would fight for him. I will fight for justice. I will become strong enough to win against this demon!!11!!!111!

Manuel does not want to cry, I can see it. His eyes are squeezed together. 

I walk to the park and sit down with him on the bench in front of the lake. The sun goes down, basking the world in an innocent orange light although I know that nothing will ever be the same as before. We have lost a close friend. No one is saying it, but we both know it.

Manuel looks away for a moment to wipe away his tears. His voice is hoarse and quivering,  
"First Ali's burritos is gone, then Boomer's ... Dude... They are trying to exterminate the burritos. They're exterminating them all!"

Today, we have lost a friend and gained a new enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the point where we thought there should be just a little bit more coherent storyline.


	8. The Canticles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have never eaten or bought a real burrito, so I don't know how accurate the depiction of this dish is. - sincerely, Engelhardt

I sit in class and stare absentmindedly at Emo Ute. She looks so ugly today, as if she got an electric shock from a toaster. Her hair is standing up. So this is what happens when an Emo discovers hairspray...

She has been insisting on going to my place for two days to say hello to Diablo the ice block.

But of course, not as ugly as that pig Manuel is trying to woo - VSCO Girl Angela Merle. This TikTok girl has no idea what has happened the day before. Nobody knows - nobody knows that Boomer's burrito shack disappeared into posterity without a funeral or word of comfort. Only me and Manuel, the successors of the burritos, are aware of this new world.

I look at him. He looks emaciated. His eyes are sunken and his hands are clawing into an empty pack of chewing gum, a bit like withdrawal symptoms. This is kind of creepy...

The mood darkens when Mr. Julius Plato S. announces the death of the burrito stall.

"Dear sailors, yesterday one o' us went t' Valhalla. Arrrr, a truly beautiful battle. Wha' an honorary burrito scallywag Boomer had been. Well, dear crew, his store has capsized."

"Ohhh, but this is a ksksksksks catastrophe. The poor store! Save the burritos!!!!", the VSCO girl, Angela Merle, says.  
"Waaaaaaha" can be heard from the back row.

My words are stuck in my throat. I can't describe in words how painful the burrito joint's demise is. But I remain brave, because I have promised Manuel. No, I will defend the dignity of the burritos!

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of a burrito joint, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of Mexican fast food or of the eating; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble to feast, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances." The First Amendment.

You want to know why I love burritos?

The burrito is a completely homemade dish. So many other foods are based on strange names, funny ingredients, pork you can identify with, or Christmas.

Not the burrito. The burrito is completely absurd. It is a generic dish in flat bread and an arbitrary method of celebrating the possession of two dollars. The first person who ate the burrito did not do so because they recognized it. The first person who ate the burrito did not do so because of a pre-existing fast-food format. The first person who ate the burrito chose a dish which was literally pulled out of the ether by mere human creativity and willpower.

The burrito is proof that humans can stare into the meaningless emptiness of eternity and impose their own meaning on it. I will always eat the burrito, my guys!

Julius Plato S. continues.  
"You shall not cry, you are strong sailors,  
'cept for Kaithleen, she's a weak dosser."

"I am righteously outraged, ye old fool.  
Receive my succulent punches, bold buffoon."

Emo Ute starts to speak.  
"Now, finish this farce I plead!  
It's Diablo I want to see.  
This request's merely wee!"

Manuel stands up from his chair,  
"Enough games, long I pull thy ear  
turned white and pallid out of fear  
when my maw arrives at your rear!"

I shout into the night,  
"So do you want to fight  
like a dog or noble knight?"

Misery in guise of Manuel,  
"Galloo-galley, our heyday's here.  
Rapture follows closely 'hind thy feet!"

Emo Ute and her book,  
"Listen closely, children look!  
Rescue's coming really soon!"

"But where? But where?", a choir's prayer.  
"Patience, children.", Emo bewares.  
"Oh, why'd you torment us so?  
"Do not go wasting your woes!"

Ute slams the book together and opens a new one.

"2+3=7 9-0=9"

A math book… Goddamn curse.

Manuel starts to cry. That was probably all a bit too much. I grab his hand and pull him out of the class - during the lesson! 30 seconds later the bell rings.

"STOP!1!!1! I MUST SEE DIABLO!!!1",  
Emo Ute screams and runs after us.

Not that crazy buckle. She is becoming more and more anti-emo day by day. I told her that Diablo hates emos, even though this boy is so hollow and empty that he literally doesn't like anything.


	9. Manuel the Hannibal

Today I have a strange feeling, almost as if someone is following me.

I plunge onto my bed. My little sunshine sister follows me and destroys the wooden boards of the bedstead.

"Kaithleen is fat!"  
The little dung beetle giggles gloatingly. I shove her away and get up groggily.

"MOM! I'm going to a friend's house!"  
I announce, grab my jacket and yeet myself out of my house.

The way leads me to Manuel. I stare at the doorbell signs...

The names are all Greek to me. Mrs. Butcher, Mr. Cook, Mrs. Meat, Mr. Lamb, Mr. Butcher. Manuel's surname must be Lamb.

"HEWWO?", A deep male voice blasts from the intercom.  
My six sensory organs flinch back with fright. It doesn't sound like a lamb, more like the machine they are shredded with.

"I-I-I want to talk to Manuel! I-i-i-i-i-is he t-t-t-there?"

"Who is Manuel??? Don't know him."

"I don't know either. Krusty Krab pizza?!"

"Keep your mitts off the doorbell, or I'll get the Flying Dutchman!"

A cold shiver runs down my spine and I decide not to say anything at first. After about 15 minutes of silence, I finally hear the liberating click at the other end. So Manuel's surname is actually "Butcher".

I ring the bell.  
"HellOoOoOo,"  
I am greeted by the almost embarrassingly sugary high voice of a woman. It sounds more like a butcher who bumped his toe horribly.  
"I... um... Manuel?"  
"CoooOOOOme IIIIINNNN!"

Somehow, I don't want to go. She sounds like she wants to fry and eat me like the ones in that fairy tale - although - they were plumped up with sweets before that. I imagine worse deaths and push the door open.

Holy sh-it.  
I am greeted by the sight of Manuel crouching in a dirty corner and nibbling on a piece of rope. The deprivation of juicy, freshly prepared burrito must have been what caused his ordeal, as his emaciated body shows. He mumbles incomprehensible sentences to himself. His brain has probably shrunk due to the lack of nutrients. He is reduced to a shadow of his former self.

His mother approaches me laughing.

"So you're the girl Manuel has been raving about for ages!"

I feel very weird. 

"Come in! Let me offer you something. My husband is still at work. Toilet cleaner, you know.", She winks.

Toilet cleaner. That sounds so stupid. You don't call autopsy examiners a corpse inspector or a toilet cleansing agent a pipe cleaner.  
If Angela Merle dies, she definitely needs both, including the pipe cleaner for her vape-baked lungs.

"Okay. Mom. You're embarrassing."

Manuel hid the chewed-up rope behind him and led me to his room. If you can call this a room. I'd call it ruin of despair.  
There are strange spots on the walls that I don't want to inspect any further. And somehow it smells a lot like old tires.

"Sit down, Kaithleen."

He offers me something that resembles a chair. I sit on it. It collapses. Kaithleen the fattie, of course.

Manuel walks up to a bookshelf, if you can even call it that because it is built out of pizza cartons, and pushes into a blue book. The wall turns and a door to a kind of secret laboratory opens. Oh, man, what kind of blatant sh-it is this.

"Boomer's bequest."

He points to an object on a pedestal that is wrapped in aluminum foil and smells very piquant. My stomach is growling. It has triggered the hunger.

NO- is that... the last burrito?!!111!!?

Manuel, shamelessly dressed in a long frock with little lambs on it and a pair of burrito patterned socks, walks up to the holy grail and opens the packaging. The whole room is filled with the spicy smell of Boomer's creamy burrito sauce.

"Manuel, how are we going to save this place?", I interrupt the totally epic scene.  
He drops the burrito in shock.

"Easy.", He smiles, "We kill the greasy anti-burrito guy."

I take two steps back. Manuel frightens me, standing there in the ruins of his room with his frock and bloodshot eyes.

My hand starts to tremble, and I cling to the next best object, a dead hamster.

Daisy.

I get flashbacks. My scream is louder than Mr. Lamb who is still roaring out of the intercom.

"YOU FOOL!", I inhale sharply, "You better think of something, or I'm leaving!"

"WAAAAAIT!!!"

Manuel yeets the hamster corpse into the garbage can, then takes out a card with a badly drawn sketch of the greasy man and our classmates.  
Our co-conspirators are all equipped with a knife here.

"We can do it!!!"

Uh-

"We can't kill a man!!!! This is foolish and illegal!!1111! Pride comes before the fall or something!!!!111!"

Manuel ignores me and continues with his plan.

"First, to the guns 'n' ammo shop - get knives for everyone. Then RIP, RIP! Best in the neck and skull!"

"How about we hurt him differently...."

"What do you mean?"

"We look for what means the most to him and tear it up in front of his eyes like he did with us!1!1!"

"Tear up his wife?"


	10. The Night before the War

Manuel stares at the photo on the computer screen like a psychopath,  
"So this is what the wife of Hades looks like."

I cannot believe my eyes. A beautiful graceful blonde smiles playfully into the camera next to that fugly monster.

There are two reasons why they are together:

1\. Money

2\. Money

3\. MONEY!!!

"We need reinforcement!", I say.

Manuel snaps his fingers, "No problem! We have Angela, Julius Plato S., Emo Ute..."

"And ice block. Diablo could freeze the wife of the anti-burrito dwarf with his icy aura."

"Then I'm going to recruit my cousins."

That actually doesn't sound like a stupid plan.

"I'll round everyone up.", I grin, and for the first time in forever I feel something that could be described as "hope".

About 30 minutes later, the entire crew has gathered in Manuel's burrito cave.

"Oh, there's a dead hamster lol."

I lose my faith in humanity.

“All living beings are doomed to death's scythe. We are namely prisoners of this fate and slaves to our instincts. And as we lose sight of our finality, we begin to crave more and more worldly resources such as food and other pleasures and forget the true meaning of our lives. We want to fulfill the duty of producing offspring like our animal counterparts instead, only to disappear into posterity in the end stuck in our foolish self-righteousness, believing we have taught our children the 'right' values. But he who brings virtue also brings vice.  
Exactly because of those values, however, there's an even greater burden for man to bear.  
Moral thinking and understanding distinguishes us from the animals. We became smart, but also more arrogant because of our intelligence. Unfortunately, wisdom is exactly man's fatal flaw, which Christian theologians call 'original sin'. Our wisdom leads to the fact that death is felt as something unnatural. We become afraid of the fading of the self by the complete extinction and annihilation of the mortal body and see the 'new birth' in the ether not as redemption from the body, but damnation, because we are afraid of the uncertainty of non-existence. We should seek to reduce ourselves to nothing to numb the vice we brought upon this world. As we were born from nothing, we shall return to nothing.", Emo Ute says.

My faith is no longer lost, but hanged on the gallows, shot, chased under the combine, burned and reduced to atoms, then on its ashes Manuel danced Macarena three times to the tune of the Super Mario Theme.

“Kate?”

I stare at the wall, mind numb, and subject myself to these depressing thoughts.

"And how do you want to make her disappear.", the wood log asks in such a monotone voice that I didn't notice that it was a question at first.

"Isn't it obvious?", the VSCO girl begins. I hope she'll choke on her bubble tea in her hydro flasksksks.

"We take her beauty away! Then he's gonna throw her away like a plastic straw!", she gleams.

Manuel draws his brows together, "And how do you want to do that?"

"Yo, scallywags, we'll jus' loot off her make-up!", Julius Plato S. says. "Arrrr.", he adds.

"What a dumb idea!", I protest, "I know how. We'll send her to a very special hair stylist who'll ruin her hair!"

For a few seconds, silence lingered in the round.

"Arrr, me spouse be a hairdresser." The old man again. "She earns somethin' like that on top o' her pension. I'll tell her wha' we be up t'."

"Great, and how are we going to reel her in?" Manuel crosses his arms.

"With a voucher!", Angela Merle sings.

Emo Ute begins to tremble,  
"Diablo. I have to confess something..."

She takes a deep breath and chokes.

After a coughing fit and a brief respite, she has regained her voice. The foolish thing, however, is that she now sounds like a drug-addicted pubescent eighth grader, just like Manuel.

She inhales deeply, again,

"At which hour thee taint'd mine own heart with sweetness, t'was a slippery slope,  
oh, woe, I am in love with a knave from the grove.   
Mine own second wing, mine own ladybird,  
I wast not a blinking idiot f'r passion,  
anon t's thee I am wanting.   
Would thee beest mine? Would thee beest mine tonight?  
Couldst beest kissing mine own fruit punch lips in the bright sunshine  
for I like thee quite a lot, everything thee did get, thee not knoweth?  
T's thee yond i adore, though i maketh the boys falleth like dominoes."

“Ok.”, he answers.

I start scratching my head.

"What's the second step?", I can feel the excitement rising up inside me.

"When we have taken away her beauty, we have to take the anti-burrito guy's job next.", a creepy grin begins to form on Manuel's face.  
He looks like the dead hamster.

"With the hamster corpse!", Mrs. Tomie suddenly appears.  
"Mrs. Tomie?! Go away! You are not plot-relevant and do not appear in this arc!", I shout indignantly. I didn't even invite her.

I sigh and continue, “My idea is, we have to find his favorite restaurant after he inspected it and have the hamster show up there. When authorities find out that he basically lied about the the restaurant's authenticity, he'll lose his job."  
I have to admit, this plan is very likely to fail anyway. Whatever.

"And how are you going to find out his favorite restaurant?" Asks Ms. Tomie.

"I told you to get lost!"

"It says so on Facebook, Chinese.", Manuel replies and points to the photo of him in a chic Asian restaurant on the computer screen.

"Alright, then let's do it."


	11. Operation Dumb Cow: Phase 1

The day of departure has arrived. I hear euphemistic bells ringing us awake. Mrs. Tomie has finally vamoosed. We are ready.

"So, me crew, we shall now go t' me honorary beauty.", Julius Plato S. beams.

Two small, shriveled legs in pink high heels exit Julius Plato S's car and a creature that almost resembles a human appears. Julius Plato S. has a big grin on his face.  
"Ahoy, tootsie pie!!! Me sweet mole rat!!!"

I feel a jolt piercing through my body. Is that... Jealousy?????

"Oh! What cute high heelsksk!", the VSCO girl fawns. I'm sure she's just saying it to make herself look good because I just can't imagine rubbing shoulders with a half-rotten woman.

I swear, the earth shakes when she walks. She's so fat, and her lips are tinted in a penetrating brick red.

She hugs Julius Plato S. warmly, breaking him several bones in the process.  
"Oh, me wee Doveyyyy.", Julius Plato S. melts.

Death has never been more tempting...

"Hehe, can you do that thing with the coupon.", Manuel is tearing up from holding in the incipient laughter.

"Of course, my little candies, I would do anything for my darling!"  
She pulls out a squeaky yellow paper from her bag.

I snatch it out of her hand,  
"Great, then we can start with our plan."

"Okay." Another interesting interjection from the log.

"Arrrr, on t' th' battle then, me sailors!!!!", Julius Plato S. cackles.

"We just have to wait for the right time, and then it'll run like clockwork...", I say, excitement rising up inside me.

Facebook is really very helpful. For a skilled stalker like me, it is almost indispensable. Within a matter of a few hours, I found out everything there is to know about the enemy, especially where his house is. That's where the coupon has to go.

"Emo Ute, wood log, you are being sent on a special mission! Throw the voucher into the mailbox!"

Emo Ute doesn't seem to be listening. She's cowering on the floor because Diablo has rejected her love. My wood log brother is staring at me with his soulless eyes. I feel like I'm talking to a wall, although I'd definitely gain more insight from talking to a wall than talking to either of them.

Man, if her heartbreak messes everything up, I'll spoon out my eye with a rusty fork. Then I'll become an old pirate like Julius Plato S. and conquer the seven seas.

"Then... then let's go.", the former emo whispers fiddling with her fingers and blushing slightly.  
"Ok.", the wood log replies.

_________________________________________________________

The way ends at a huge villa.  
There was a sign at the gate saying, "Beware: Aggressive Dog".

"Pfa, do not fear, princess. I will go!", Emo Ute announces boldly and grabs the handle of the door. 

"WOAWOAW!"  
The dog barks high-pitched, like a broken combine.

Emo Ute screams, jumps around Diablo's neck and begins to cry,  
"THIS IS SATAN! FORGIVE ME! I WILL NEVER DEFY YOU EVER AGAIN!"

The dog eyes her questioningly,  
"Woaw?"

Suddenly, a strange mouth-curled smile forms on Diablo's face that doesn't really look like a smile...

"We're going." he says as neutral as ever and carries the paralyzed emo on his back.  
The dog looks at Diablo with a f-cked up look.

Diablo carefully walks to the front door while Emo Ute's mascara tears roll down her cheeks. 

That's when Emo Ute remembers the first time she applied eyeliner.

She was on a class trip and had brought her favorite doll with her. It could have been a nice trip, but...

She used to be called Ute. Just Ute.  
It was the day when the plastic baby of the pregnant Barbie doll fell into her mouth. She had cried after that traumatizing event, so much till her eyes became two inflamed flesh balloons.  
Every hope and dream she had in her life was shredded, pulverized and reduced to atoms.

So that night, she sold her soul to the devil in order to regain her former strength back.

As a sign of her new acquired power, Ute framed her eyes with black eyeliner.  
Since then, she is called Emo Ute, the daughter of eternal sorrow. She had sworn to never feel happiness, so she won't ever be disappointed by the world again.

But since she met Diablo, her lost feelings have returned. And it was in the form of... love (UwU).

He slides the coupon into the mailbox. "Done.", Diablo says.

The setting seemed to change to an anime opening.

"Diablo-kun!", Emo Ute wipes away the snot from her nose.

"Nani.", Diablo responds and suddenly takes her hand.

"M... m... my hand! BAKA!", she slaps him across the face. How dare he do such an obscene thing in public?! He stares at her with an indefinable expression. 

"There was dog shit on the floor. I pulled you aside, so you wouldn't step in it.", he replies.  
She begins to cry again, "I hate you."

Suddenly, a sharp excited scream sounds from the house.  
The woman must have found the coupon...

"Come on now!", she nags at Diablo. Then they run away.

_________________________________________________________

At the central office, the telephone rings. It is the graceful blonde.  
"Well, hello, I want that thing with the hair. Today. Got it?"

I grin. We have succeeded with that part of the plan.

"Of course, we'll sign you up for an appointment right away, how about", I wink at Manuel, "in an hour?"

"Yes." And there's a beep on the line.

"Operation stupid cow, we deface that stupid rich woman has started.", I say to my co-conspirators who are all grinning sadistically.

Manuel pats Julius Plato S. on the shoulder and his wife laughs.  
Only Mrs. Tomie, who has secretly entered the scene again, is sitting depressed in the corner.

"What's wrong Mrs. Tiii?", VSCO Girl asks and accidentally smacks Manuel with her hydro flask.

"I'm just like", she sobs, "so proud of you guys."


	12. Operation Dumb Cow: Phase 2

"Ohhh, that looks like spliss!", Julius' wife, Dovey, exhorts.  
"What? Just the tips or you'll have a word with my lawyer!"

The plump pigeon staggers with her sharp blade and nearly falls on top of the stupid graceful blonde. After regaining her balance, the half-demented woman swings her scissors at her yellow shrubbery and begins to chop her hair up. I grin wickedly and rub my hands together like a fly.

"What's that shit!", the evil woman cries indignantly.

"That's art ahhaaahhah!", the bulky Dovey shouts as she uses the razor to make a Caillou clone out of the gorgeous blonde,  
"I would say, mission completed."

"Yeah, you look completely disfigured and bald!", I giggle, "Like a molar rat."

"Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe, hilarious!", Manuel interjects, throwing himself on the floor with laughter.

"What?!", the bald woman falls on her hands and knees,  
"I will kill you all."  
A thick fog cloud of silence drifts through the room.

"I know men in suits who do that sort of thing.", she looks serious. 

Manuel is getting uncomfortable.  
"Yeah, I mean shit happens.", Angela Merle says enthusiastically.

"Wait a minute. I said stop!" I shout into the round, "I want to be run over by a car, not be razored by some anti-burrito Men in Blacks!"  
That scoundrel. It's getting way too much for me. I break-

"Enough! It's your own fault, you ruddy philistine. Wife of the devil. Mother of hell! I can't believe you could love a man like him or his dirty money! Your parents would be ashamed to call such a decadent trollop their own blood. In your world, only cash and designer bags matter! But where is that which is called heart? Where is that which is called love?", Emo Ute says.  
"Buuuurp." Diablo's response.

"Ahoy, me sailors. Calm down!", Julius Plato S. booms in, "Hair grows back, human life, uh... doesn't. Let's jus' all go eat out 'n settle down 'n 'tis all gonna be fine, right?"

Emo Ute gasps, outraged, "You don't get it, Julius Plato S... This philistine woman has defaced the meaning of love and burritos! The end justifies the means, therefore, I must resort to the morally reprehensible and take the blade that will plough through the heart of this witch."

Caillou's hand crashes into the crowd and right into Ms. Tomie's face,  
"Kame hame haaaa f-ckers! (UWU)"

"Omg her nose isksksk broken!!!"

"Omae wa mou... shindeiru!!!!11!1", the woman's right hand reaches for the scissors.

"Oh no.", Angela Merle says, but it sounds indifferent.

The Woman of Evil pulls the scissors through Ms. Tomie's gums, slashing her cheek open.  
"Ouch!" Mrs. Tomie cries.  
"How about an anti-escalation natter?!", Plato suggests, grabbing Dovey by the arm somewhat frightened.  
"She shall jab ye first. Yer fat armor protects ye better, me beloved molar rat!"

"Children, run!!!11!1", Mrs. Tomie screams while her disfigured face reenacts the Vietnam War.

"Shut up, Mrs. Tomie! You're still not plot-relevant!"


	13. Operation Dumb Cow: Crap

For weeks I have been looking across the streets and at the traffic lights. I think the psycho aunt has called the men in black.  
Nevertheless, school goes on as usual.

Ute seems less frightened.

"Life",  
she takes off her sunglasses in a dramatic motion and “Rammstein - Du Hast” plays in the background,  
"is not a bed of roses... uh sksks...? ...Ehhh?"

She thinks Diablo is only into VSCO girls and just spontaneously reached backwards puberty.  
She's pinker than Barbie's anti-depression pills. Her eyes are glitterier than Edward Cullen’s skin. She's a walking unicorn cow.

"Don't you think the lady meant it when she said she was going to kill us?", I ask in unease, but she merely replies with a shrill cackle.

Since the closure of Boomer’s burrito shop, the number of immigrants has dropped significantly, which some politicians see as a blessing, ( I'm not racist, but-) they do not realize that this means less burritos and tacos!

All of a sudden, Angela Merle appears out of nowhere,  
"Sksksstop racism! What are you, American???!!!11!1"

Can she read my mind?

"Nope."

“Yo, guys.", Manuel walks up to us, "What's up?"

I turn to Manuel, rubbing the back of my head nervously, "Um, so I think I'm being followed by the men she sent...”

"h”

"What's so funny about that, craphead!?", I shout with fervor, "Hell's revenge is boiling in my heart! Rage and despair! Also, I was just photographed yesterday!"

"Huh, those might be the ones who beat me up yesterday. Yo, now it makes sense why they were yelling ‘We are the Communist Revolution Alliance of Proletarians! Short, CRAP!’ while they demolished my face."

Something seems to smell piquantly fishy here, and it's not Manuel's body odor this time.  
I don't know whether to cry or laugh and decide for the latter.

"I don't want to be beaten up by the CRAP comrades. I don't want to die so young!", I cry.

Ute turns around, startled. 

"I meant… I meant not at the hands of an organization called CRAP!"

Ute nods in satisfaction.  
So there is some sanity behind the VSCO girl facade after all.

Manuel, VSCO-Girl, Ute (sadly no longer emo) and I have to concoct a plan to get around the CRAP brothers and anti-burrito secret service. Never would I have believed to be a freedom fighter in my young life, but I guess I am now. A-bloo-bloo…

"Oh nooo! what sskskshould we do???!?1", Angela Merle hisses.  
"CHILDREN!", Julius Plato S. wobbles in our direction.

"Mrs. Tomie… she… ! AHHHHHHH.", he picks up his asthma spray and takes a drag, "She's gone!"   
"Finally.", I rejoice.  
What goes around comes around.


	14. The CRAP Brothers: Dishonor

"I am not able to realize it. How could this happen!!!"

Kastor angrily slaps the table. "Comrades, we've lost all our capital assets! What's going to happen next? A hyperinflation!?" 

"But... But we were hungry...", Stalinus says. "And we only bought those cheap cup noodles from Walmart. Not even from Costco!

"Silence, you vile weasel!"

Stalinus nervously plays with his fingers,  
"But... but... otherwise, we would starve! Those capitalist imperialist pigs have confiscated all our money! And by next Friday, we'll be broke and starving…”

“I would rather have starved to death. What a foolish assumption, as if such needs as the demand for food would hold back our will to fight! If only, it’s the reason we fight! We are proletarians, we are brothers, we are strong, but only together we can overthrow the supremacy of the money-grubbers. My brothers, do not be downhearted for the time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious and makes you so sick at heart that you can't take part. And you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you've got to make it stop. With great effort, we can even attract an allegiance that will follow our ideology to the grave!”  
Kastor gets up from the chair and with a sweep of his hand, he casts the food from the table.

Stalinus begins to cry, "But comrade, these were the last noodles and I still have to go to my business administration exam."

Kastor slaps his forehead in disappointment and sighs, "Stalinus, don't fret over such trivial problems. You're playing one of the main roles when we poke the students to boycott! Long live the revolution!"

Stalinus opens his mouth, but is immediately interrupted by Kastor, "Enough meaningless chatter. America is yearning for an alternative, and that alternative, is us, CRAP!!!!!111!"

"Uh, no, actually I wanted to...", Stalinus swallows nervously, "Actually, I wanted to say that you scare me quite a bit. And also, I was going to read a poem to boost our morale!"

Kastor stares at him with a disturbed look for a moment, but then nods.

"All right...", Kastor sighs, "Fire away."

"Ok, ahem…

Nothing left to live, or am I just too callow?  
I jumped into the brook, because life felt hollow,  
but the brook was much too shallow.”

"Are you mental or is it the medication?", Kastor asks, slightly confused. 

Marx smiles, "I have an idea how we can overthrow the system. I met a lecturer, a rich woman who had a great affliction."  
Kastor's ears perk up.   
"Rich?"

"She's looking for system crashers to do her dirty work. She can be useful for expanding our sphere of influence since due to her connections to the some information elites... Though she's one of those decadent pigs, she wants us to challenge the system to help her become a more powerful figure in the oncoming political disorder."

Stalinus sobs, "What does that mean?"

Marx laughs, "It's obviously the code word for beating up kids! If we cause an uproar in public, the world will take notice, and we will become infamous! That woman plays the key role since she will be the one spreading our misdeeds in the media. People will look at us and finally notice our suffering. This is something we have always striven for, and now it is within reach!"

"But after she achieves her goal, we must topple her from her throne again...", Kastor says, "Otherwise, we are merely her tools."

Manuel goes to Walmart as usual to treat himself to some cup noodles. He walks along the shelves.

"That's the little capitalist systemlet.", Kastor whispers, "Shall we take him on now?"

Stalinus begins to cry,

"Attack!!!11!1"

Their fists fly like moths to a burning burrito in the evening sun.

"Waaaaah, you can have anything you want! Please kill me! I'm so old and I don't have any children!", Manuel screams.

Kastor hesitates, "This is no fun."

He turns to the CRAP comrades, "We certainly won't make headlines like this. Later, he'll even thank us for this with a bouquet of flowers."  
"Not just one!", Manuel retorts loudly.

"Then...", Kastor begins, "We'll just have to make sure our names are made known to the public differently."

Stalinus whoops, "B-b-b-b-b-but how?"

Kastor grabs Manuel by his collar and turns his head towards Stalinus and Marx, "Let's show him something he won't easily forget. Marx! Plan B!"

Marx nods and takes a picture out of his pocket. Manuel freezes. A familiar blonde beauty smiles back at him. Mrs. Tomie! 

"What... what are you going to do with her?!"

"What do you think!?", Kastor squeezes Manuel's cheek like a grandma, "We've kidnapped your Tomie, and we're going to torture, and then kill her. We're not the Care Bears after all."

Manuel is overcome with fear. He tries to fledge himself free, but he is too wimpy and weak to fight against Kastor's grip.

"Right, Stalinus?", Kastor asks with a smug smile.

"Eh... Yes... Yes!", Stalinus mumbles, "Uh, who is she, anyway? And when did we even kid-"

"We are the Communist Revolution Alliance of Proletarians! Short, CRAP!", Kastor shouts and slaps Manuel across the face, "Engrave this into your mind!"

"Ouch." Manuel starts to cry. "What was it called again?"  
"We are the Communist Revolution Alliance of Proletarians! Short, CRAP!"  
Kastor boxes Manuel's arm this time.

"C-careful, that might hurt him!", Stalinus admonishes.

"And who is Mrs. Tomie again? Dunno her."

The CRAP brothers laugh at him and Kastor Roundhouse kicks his belly three times. At least twenty fists sink into Manuel's blubber afterwards.

Manuel howls and crouches on the floor, "Oof."

"Let this teach you a lesson. Remember we are the Communist Revolution Alliance of Proletarians! Short, CRAP! And we got that blonde lady!"

Manuel nods and turns to leave.

"Weren't we a little bit too harsh?", Marx asks, "And who is this blonde lady?"

"Oh, she's not plot-relevant."


	15. The CRAP Brothers: Strong Right Hook

"Hold her down! Hold her down!", Kastor yells. In his hand, he holds a rope and a piece of tape.

"I'm trying!!!11", Stalinus cries.

"It's no use,", Marx shakes his head, grabbing his forehead.

Stalinus desperately tries to fasten the belts on the straitjacket of the unconscious Mrs. Tomie, but the belts are too short.  
"Botheration! It's enough to drive a person mad as hell!", he says, "It's like trying to squeeze Trump's ego into a canning jar!"

Kastor then slaps Stalinus's neck, "You're useless!"

"Ouch...", Stalinus starts crying even harder.

"Well, we'll just have to think of something else!", Marx retorts, annoyed, "How about amputation?"

"You're a genius. But then our study notes will get dirty.", Kastor replies.

"NOT THE STUDY NOTES!!!!", Stalinus screams between tears.

Kastor points at Tomie, "Wait, she's waking up?"

Ms. Tomie slowly raises her head, her eyes glazed over and shaking.

"Oh man, how cute. I don't even want to torture her anymore...", Stalinus affirms.

"Are you stupid!?", Kastor shouts, "She is the capitalist evil!"

"Who are you?", Tomie asks in confusion as her eyes begin to tear.

"We are the Communist Revolution Alliance of Proletarians! Short, CRAP! And you're f-cked!"

"K.", Ms. Tomie replies, aghast, trying to straighten her body. She quickly realizes, however, that a straitjacket has been put on her,  
"But believe me, I'm not plot-relevant. No one will come looking for me. I'm so unimportant that the writers keep forgetting what my name is..."

"What a sh-tty plan.", Marx sighs.

"Marry me, Mrs. Tomie!!!", Stalinus shouts, "I will never forget your name again!!!"

"Stalinus, are you devoted to the devil? She is the embodiment of capitalist supremacy. Don't you dare to give in to the temptation of the serpent!"

"B-b-b-but I'd never devote myself to the devil... !"

"Why am I working with such idiots?", Marx wonders aloud. 

"Marx!", Stalinus cries, indignant and depressed, "That's so mean!"

While the CRAP brothers throw hands with each other, Ms. Tomie slithers away from the action in serpentine motions. "Sayonara… Kurappuburazāzu.", she whispers, disappearing into the deep night.

"YOU GUYS ARE SUCH F-CKING IDIOTS! NOW THE TOMIE COW IS GONE!", Kastor is pure fire.   
His rage wafts through the room like a toxic cloud of sulfur.  
"How are we supposed to make our name known now, you dirty Dans?!"

He slowly walks to Marx and begins to grin eerily.

"Well, from that idiot back there,", Kastor points to Stalinus, who is crying, "I would have expected that, but surely not from you!"  
He begins to laugh, "You damn potato head, come with me for a minute, I want to show you something."

"What, what do you rat want from me?", Marx retorts.

Kastor grabs him by the collar and drags him into the next room; The kitchen.

Stalinus looks on completely dejected, like a child watching his parents argue.

Suddenly, Kastor starts opening all the cabinets in the kitchen, "See what we have here?! Right. Nothing!!! I'm just doing all this to ensure our survival!"

It is now Marx's turn to smile smugly. Kastor's face contorts with pure rage. Now, it has gone too far. The last word has been spoken!!11!

"Oh, no. That's the last straw!", Kastor shouts, "Now, you've crossed the line!" 

He draws back his fist and aims at Marx's face.

Stalinus can't take it anymore.

"NO!!!! DON'T DO IT!!!111!"

He leaps between Marx and Stalinus with a perfect roll and falls like a wimp on the hard wooden floor. Then, the wooden boards break, and he falls down to the bottom floor, right into the next fray where two Japanese are fighting.

"MUDA MUDA!" "ORA ORA!"  
"Why is it so loud?!", he cries and splashes like pigeon sh-t on a windshield on the floor of his fighting neighbors.  
"Nani? Who are you?"

"We are the Communist Revolution Alliance of Proletarians! Short CRAP!", sounds from above.

The neighbor hesitates, "Hm, aren't you the one who attends my business administration class? You're the one who always goes to the professor after class and cries about needing at least a 1.0 GPA because otherwise his grandma will beat him up..."

There is laughter from the upper floor.

Stalinus breaks down. At that moment, he dreamt of turning into a cow and living happily in the pasture until he's processed into tartar and then consumed by snooty Frenchmen without bearing the burden of the world.  
"She has a strong right hook! Besides, I have to go back up and stop the epic fight between Kastor and Marx!"

"Oh yeah, we were fighting!", Kastor shouts.

Stalinus falls on his hands and knees and takes a deep breath,

"What dejection the world brings us!  
What a reality warped by greed  
for Man, who spits his sinful seed,  
is the most horrible of all creatures!"

While Stalinus curls up in a ball and cries bitterly, Marx and Kastor fight each other on the upper floor.

After a few minutes of brawling, Kastor holds his bleeding nose while Marx cools his black eye.

"We'd better start looking for a solution to this problem... !", Kastor pants.

Marx begins to grin, "Quite simply. If Ms. Tomie is not plot-relevant, then we need to track down the main character."

"And... And then what?", Stalinus asks, still downstairs chewing dejectedly on an empty pack of ramen noodles he has scrounged from the Japanese.

"Then we'll make them one of us."


	16. Retirement Home Arc: Mole Rat

Julius nimbly takes out his cell phone and shows the picture of the tied-up woman Tomie. No one cares. Manuel is eating chips. I snatch the bag from his hand, take a potato chip, and eat it!

"Attention, students. Tomorrow is the internship at the nursing home."  
"Why are you talking like you did in the first chapter again? I thought we had all gone through a character development. I mean, look at Emo... VSCO Ute."

Besides, isn’t the secret service and three communist pariahs going after my life? But in the long run, an internship would make more sense instead of taking care of these matters. I can't give it up now and ruin my chance of getting a good job! Therefore, I must ignore these unfavorable circumstances and put my life on the line to achieve a better future.

(Time skip: The next day…)

Today is the day. My first internship! At the nursing home... I was lucky to survive at all while crossing the dilapidated bridge on the way there. I could have sworn it nearly collapsed under me when I accidentally fell full force on the fence and dished in a few splinters. Damn, that’s going to get infected.

A grim looking old lady greets me at the door of the nursing home,  
"Bad pay, thankless job, and I cry every day."

That was maybe a bit too honest....

"Can't you perhaps show me around first?"  
"No."

It's quiet for a short while.

"Can I come in?"  
"No."

Again, silence.

"You must.", she says.

I damn this foolish humanity. This woman is the spawn of unfriendliness. She looks like someone just confessed to her that he drove over her hamster with his car.  
Her eyes have fatter pads than Julius Plato S's wife has on her belly. Her hair is gray. Just depression gray. Not even Picasso could have painted a nice picture with that.

She pulls me through the aisles.

"That's Mrs. Baker. She stuffs pillows in the toilet when she has her forgetful periods."  
"Who am I?"

She continues to show me the rooms.

"That's Richert Richarde. He used to be a freedom fighter."  
"Viva la revolution!"  
Must be French.

"That's Julio. The caregiver."  
“…”  
"He doesn't talk. According to some rumors, he doesn't talk because he sounds like an anime villain."

A young man who resembles Diablo, but only with gray hair, looks at me with a venomous look. Unlike my wooden block brothers, he at least shows a bit of emotion. For some reason, my face turns red. What can it possibly mean?

"And... and what is my task now?", I ask this grim witch. What is her name, anyway? From now on, I'll just call her "Helga the ol’ witch," or "Witchga" for short.

When Witchga suddenly hands me her long rancid broom, I jump back like a frightened cat. I thought she wanted to slay me. I had already looked death in the eye.  
Not the first time today.

"Cleaning. Now!", she points her thin frail finger at the garden of the nursing home.  
I watch a mouse scurry into a bush.  
"Go!"

I pick up the broom and cry, in silence and agony this time.

The dirt on the floor is scary. Every now and then, I find a set of teeth or a single tooth. I feel a chill running down my back. I sweep everything together.  
And then I see it: The fat mole rat! (A real one)

"SATAN, SCRAM!", I scream and take the broom for defense.  
The mole rat is not impressed. The creature jumps around blithely in front of my feet, as if to say "screw you". It reminds me of the ugly alien from E.T.  
"DIE! MUDA MUDA!" I lift my broom and-

Witchga suddenly appears in front of me. With a particularly strong swoop, the moldy broom head hits her temple, and she flies through the garden of the old people's home like a projectile. The mole rat grins triumphantly and uglily. What a hideous beast.

I suppress the urge to scream. I remember when I accidentally poked out Julius Plato S.'s eye. I hope she's not dead. Worst case scenario, she'll also become a pirate like Julius Plato S.  
At least, I won't have to put up with another of her diatribes then.

"Um Witchga? Are you dead?"

I stare at the small ugly figure huddled on the floor, holding her arm in pain.  
She's alive. Kind of a pity, actually.

"Um, excuse me? But there was the Predator!", I point to where E.T. the mole rat had just been standing.  
"Emphasis on ‘was’...", I add and watch as Witchga slowly crawls up in a zombie-like fashion.  
An aura of unholiness surrounds her. Wow, I didn't know I was going to die in such a morbid way. I always thought I would be killed by the evil establishment or in the fight for freedom or by a bad burrito...  
I'm sure tomorrow's headline will be "Young Girl Killed by Mole Rat Hate Attack.”

So… It’s over. My whole life flashes past me while she approaches me with her outstretched arms. I can't stop shaking. Tears well up in my eyes, and I can no longer move my body. Why do I have to die so young? That’s kind of cringe.

…

Then the Winged Hus- I mean, Julio arrived.

"Haha, believe me Mrs. Luck, leave the little know-it-all to me.", Julio cracks his knuckles, "I'll teach her the old folks' art.”

Suddenly death doesn’t seem like a bad option...  
"It's not what it looks like! It's... The mole rat!", I yell.

"Come here." Darkness. His voice is dark. I'm getting nervous. Kind of cute uwu?  
He pulls Witchga up. Her eyes are spraying fire. If she were Superman, I'd be roasted.

"I'm going to show you how to take care of a wound."

What, I thought he was going to kill me, but now I even have to work! I'd rather instead fight against the state with Richert like a real partisan fighter, then immortalize my name in history!  
"Kaithleen Darko. My name is Kaithleen Darko. And there’s a million things I haven't done but just you wait, just you wait!"  
Is there a choir of ghosts singing behind me, or was that just my stunted mental health?

"First, let's see if she's still breathing," Julio begins, placing Witchga back on the floor.   
When he starts yelling at her to see if she's even still breathing and kicks her. I begin to doubt his qualification as a caregiver.  
I point a finger at her bloody temple, "I...I think she's still breathing. We have to-"  
Julio grins smugly.  
"Who's the caregiver here? You or me? Now, we need to put bandages on her bloody wound, so it doesn't get infected."

He throws a bandage on her.

"There you go, Mrs. Luck. You'll be turning the corner.”


	17. Retirement Home Arc: Mouse Aspic

After two hours, Witchga's wounds hadn't healed. Therefore, Julio decided to instruct me in the art of nursing.

"So you grab the arm and then.", I hear a loud crack and a soft whimper, "That's how you dislocate a shoulder."  
He then grabbed the frightened old woman's arm, "And that's how you put it back in."

The sound of her vomiting filled the room.

"Thank you for volunteering to be our test subject, Mrs. Mondt."

She cried. For a long time. Then she laughed.

I think I need a round of therapy. Maybe even a lobotomy. If I have to remain here in this lunatic asylum for a minute longer, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown due to sufficient reasons.

"One question.", I interrupt Julio's torture games, "When is... when is break?"

He laughs. A cold shiver runs down my spine. I don't want to anymore... I can't anymore...

"Why? What are you, a weenie? Do you need a pacifier? There are enough old rancid pensioners here who still need to be fed!"  
Julio suddenly hands me a mole rat. Wait, that's the one from before.

"Meal."

Uh.

"Make Mett out of it. Or a kebab. Don't forget to remove the teeth. And we don't want to waste anything, so we'll recycle the dermis for mittens."

"But it's summer!!!"

"First lesson. Everything is recycled at the nursing home!"

I cry.  
The mole rat is crying.  
I mean it actually looks quite tasty when it cries like that.  
The tears could be filtered and recycled as drinking water.

"Uhhh?", I wrinkle my nose.

Julio looks at me as if I was a kitten, "Oh, so you're a vegan?"

"What!!!! I'm not some cheap Mrs. Tomie knock-off!"

I bite into the mole rat as if it was a doener kebab. Everything is better than being an irrelevant character!

"My, my. That's very noble of you. Oh, well if that's the case, you can operate the machine in the back room all by yourself and independently!", Julio gloats, pointing to the dark corner of the hall.

The mole rat tries to escape, but I hold it between my teeth. It doesn't taste very good...

Julio pushes me towards this cold abandoned room. I had not yet guessed what lurked there as a sickening stench crept up my nose.

I read the sign on the door. It appears to be a menu.  
"Mole rat steak, mole rat smoothie, mouse aspic..."

Abort! Abort! What. The. Frog??!! All of a sudden, the cute caregiver doesn't seem so cute to me anymore...

"I AM VEGAN! I WILL NEVER EAT MEAT AGAIN!"  
"You coward! That's what the old people need to survive!"

I feel like I'm in a horror movie...

My eyes roam the room in panic. Suddenly, a loud bang, and then darkness. The door has slammed shut! There is no escape!

I have already killed. No, wait Julius Plato S. is still alive... But I almost killed someone. Maybe I should really do it this time.

"Hehehe, you underestimate the power of a 14-year-old girl.", I slowly approach him.

"W-what?!", he presses against the closed door in cold sweat. His eyes twitch and he can barely breath.

"Hehehe.", my ghastly laughter echoes off the walls.

"Julio!", Witchga interrupts my epic murder scene, "Are you scaring the new girl again?!"  
What?! Witchga has already recovered?! She turns to me, "It's just some kind of giant mousetrap. The exterminator put it here."

Julio laughs eerily, "Yes, we had a mole rat infestation. They get slaughtered on the other side of the room, not here."

"Boy, I'm getting kind of wild here!", I yell, "And I'm still trapped in this room!!!"  
Witchga pushes the door handle down and the door opens. Guess it wasn't locked after all.

"Children!", an old lady who had for some reason stopped by suddenly shouts, "Children, would you like some candy? Nibble, nibble, gnaw?"

Here comes the next horror movie. My internship report will be the next blockbuster.

I quickly take the broom into my firm hands. I really want to get out of here ASAP!

At that moment, my grandfather's words came flooding back, "If you really want to knock someone out, hit the liver or the solar plexus!"

Thanks, Gramps.

With a well-aimed blow and without hesitation, I defeat the final boss, Julio.

"That's for locking me up."  
If he hadn't been dead now, I'm sure he would have defended himself.

Witchga screams at the top of her voice,  
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!"

She runs over to him.

"He has no pulse!", sheer horror can be read in her eyes. Her hands are shaking, and she clutches Julio's hand as if it were an anchor in a traveling sea.

"Julio!", she is afraid. All the lights are spinning in her head, and for a few seconds, she forgets to breathe.

"Julio, no...", the world around her fades to black, "You still wanted to see... your father... Don't you remember? You always dreamed that someday he would pick you up from this hell he put you in!"

Her pleading is futile, but she doesn't want to believe he's gone for good.

"I remember when you were a newborn baby, lying helplessly on the cold hard ground without a mother or father to care for you..."  
What? So... Witchga is his adoptive mother, so to speak?

That means... I killed her... son....

She falls on her knees, abandoned, confused, despairing, "I know you never had the chance to live out your childhood... The world had punished the wrong one, you said... but... but...", Witchga takes a deep breath, "I was still able to give you meaning in life!"

He must not go.

"Don't leave me alone!"

Sweat. Cold sticky sweat. She bends over his lifeless body to breathe him back to life. He is white. Like snow.

I start to cry. I am afraid, afraid of myself. This is my fault. I am the monster.  
I caused this. I killed an innocent man.

I feel sick. Like in a dream, I pick up the phone and dial 911. The voice talking to the paramedic is not mine. It is that of a young girl and not a murderer.  
Will my mother cry a lot for me when she locks me up in the psych ward?

"Police."

I turn myself in. I can't live like this. I stare at the crying Witchga.  
Seconds like hours. Minutes like years.

I feel dull silence fighting with depression. I feel the emptiness aching. A gaping hole. Everything I hear is muffled. The voices of the paramedics are muffled.

"Can you understand us?", a hand gently shakes me.  
He takes pity on me. That supposedly weak little girl. They don't know what I am.

"Who do you think you are!", I scream in desperation,  
"Take a step back! I... I have..."

"We are the CRA- I mean, we are the Anti-Capitalist Ambulance Brothers. Kastor, Stalinus and Marx."


	18. Retirement Home Arc: Kill-Drama

What happened in the last episode...  
"We are the Anti-Capitalist Ambulance Brothers. Kastor, Stalinus and Marx."  
End of the flashback.

"Okay.", I cry, "Please... Arrest me. I confess that I killed this boy with my cold bare hands! Please, take me to the electric chair!"

"Um we're paramedics, not cops.", Marx retorts in a condescending voice, "Now, stop crying. You're ruining my style."

"What my comrade really wanted to say was, how do you feel?", Kastor asks.

"Empty."

"Creepy.", Stalinus whispers, frightened.

"Empty? I don't see a murderer in front of me. I see a poor little girl who blames herself for an unpreventable accident."  
While Kastor tries to earn my trust, Stalinus pulls Julio's lifeless body into the ambulance. 

"Disgusting!", Stalinus cries, then disinfects his hands immediately afterwards.

"Forget that brown-haired idiot.", Marx points at Stalinus deprecatingly, "We'll get your buddy fixed up. Don't worry."

"Your buddy doesn't have a pulse anymore!", Witchga now speaks up as well, "For several minutes!"

"Only resuscitation can help! Stalinus, your cue!", Kastor shouts decisively.

"Ugh, no! I'm certain, he has Herpes!"

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid he has to die. You heard it. He has Herpes.", Kastor tells me. I start to cry. This is all my fault. I gave him Herpes.

"Testify all of this when you're in court...", Stalinus admonishes.

"Let's not waste time. The body must be delivered to the hospital.", Marx says decisively.

"You want a ride, kid?", Kastor asks me calmly, holding out his hand. "We are the Ambulance Brothers, and we don't leave anyone hanging. For us, everyone is equal. It doesn't matter if you're a murderer, or not."

"Why? I... I am a monster... First I killed him, then I gave him Herpes... I even gouged out Julius Plato S.'s eye..."  
"What is a Julius Plato S. eye?", Stalinus asks curiously. Strangely enough, Witchga flinched a bit when she heard my teacher's name.

"Now stop whining and come on!", Stalinus yanks me by the hand into the car.

The drive is long. Very long. And Kastor and Marx argue the whole way.  
"Great! Now we have a dead body in the car. And a murderer.", Marx pouts, wiping imaginary dust off his paramedic uniform.

"Oh, shut up. I'll think of something.", Kastor replies, grumbling.

"Could it be... that you are not actually paramedics?", I ask, sensing that I'm about to break down again.

"Nnhh-no! We are real paramedics, can't you see?", Marx points at his uniform, strained.

Stalinus starts sweating for some reason. Suspicious... After a few minutes, he drifts into the ambulance parking lot. We're there.

"Great, now what do we say to the real paramedics?", Marx asks spitefully.

I throw a fit, "So, you're not really paramedics! I'm a murderer, stop being so calm! You foolish jokers!"

"No, no... We are paramedics!", Marx shouts impatiently.

From outside, I can hear Stalinus opening the door.

"Who are you?", two women, nurses, stand in his way.  
Stalinus straightens up. He has a relaxed smile on his face for some reason.

"We're the CRA- new paramedics squad. We're from the Saint Rossiya Hospital, from Omsk.", Kastor says, climbing out of the ambulance.

"Suka blyad'.", Marx affirms.

"Kaixo.", Stalinus greets, "Oops, I meant cześć, towarzysze!"

The older nurse draws her brows together, "Ty russkiy?"

"Y... Yes?", Stalinus swallows nervously.

The nurse turns to the other one, "I asked him in Russian if he was Russian and he said 'yes'. We can trust them. There is absolutely nothing illogical about their story."

"You can bring the patient in. Dr. Park will be informed.", the younger nurse finally says.

"We also have a girl in the car who is in shock and the patient is dead, oops."

As the nurse escorts me out of the ambulance, I don't even feel like I'm walking on solid ground. Everything is way too bright. The lights blind me and my heart feels like it's about to jump out of my throat and then run away from me.

I look out at the big wide road with a longing look. No, don't be a coward... I have to face my sins. A person died because of me. A boy. A boy who had hopes and dreams, just like you and me.

I stare at my hands. They are no longer clean. They are bloody. What has happened to me?

"Can you stop with those monologues? Thank you.", Marx interrupts my self-pity, annoyed.

A handsome Korean doctor walks in my direction, and I get a heart attack. Not because I have a weak heart, but just because I want to be treated by him.

"Doctor Park! I have a broken heart."

"Good for you. How's the patient?"

The nurse points to the rescue stretcher where the dead Julio is resting.  
Doctor Park closes his eyes and there must be an epic montage of medical images going on in his head, which you unfortunately can't see here because it's a book.

"He... he..." 

"What, doctor?!", I sob.

"I've seen these pustules somewhere before! ...Herpes!", Doctor Park gestures wildly, "This reminds me of my mother. She's dead."

Doctor Park grips his head in pain, "No, I can't go limp now. I have to save the patient!"

He presses his stethoscope on the chest of dead Julio to listen to his heartbeats.  
"He's dead?", Doctor Park looks at me in confusion.

"I killed him..."

"Wah, that reminds me of my father. He wasn't killed, but still. He... has been going out to buy cigarettes for fifteen years...", Doctor Park is sweating, "No, I can't give up! I have to fight for the patient."

Stalinus, Marx and Kastor watch the soap opera distraught from a safe distance.  
"That was a good plan.", Kastor says.  
"Shut up, I don't want to miss the scene!", Stalinus whispers.

Julio's body twitches a little. Creepy...

Doctor Park reaches into his toolbox and pulls out a large chainsaw. Suddenly, I don't want to be treated by him anymore...

"Patient.", he takes my hand, "You remind me of my sister, Park Lee Jang-mi. Unfortunately, she's gone missing."  
He brushes my hair out of my eyes, "I'll treat you."

"Coincidentally, I'm a doctor, too.", Kastor interjects into the conversation, "We can treat her together."  
"Okay."


	19. Retirement Home Arc: Another One Bites the Dust

It has been three hours since I was admitted to the hospital.

Julio is now being taken to the pathology department. Unfortunately, I will not attend his funeral since I am tied to a stretcher right now.

Doctor Park and Kastor both rev up their chainsaws. I'm gagged and cannot scream. What the hell is happening?!

"Little one.", Doctor Park shakes his hair out of his eyes in an epic motion,  
"We're going to make you feel better."

Kastor stares down at me in disbelief then distraughtly to Dr. Park,  
"Um, how about I try my Russian healing skills first?"

"Alternative medicine?", Dr. Park gives Kastor an exasperated look, "We're not Big Pharma!!!"

"But vodka with pepper", he smiles, "It's a natural remedy and not an alternative medicine, isn't it?"

"No, give her globules!", Stalinus says enthusiastically, "Globules!"

"Globules... you are completely stupid! Homeopathy doesn't even work beyond the placebo effect and you want to give her those? It's the same thing when I sneeze into the sea, then dip a glass in there and tell you: Here, for your cold! Only vodka is the real medicine!!!!!111!!!"

Dr. Park nods, "We are serious doctors, not cash-grabbing lobbyists!"

"Yes. That's why, doctor, please, get the vodka."

Dr. Park runs out of the room with quick steps.

I feel like a little trapped mole rat about to be thrown into the meat grinder and then made into one of those American hot dogs with mysterious content. I don't know what kind of drug cocktail they're trying to inject into me, but I do know that after receiving it, I'll certainly never see the light of the day ever again. This is not the way I want it to end. My escape is out there on the streets.

I turn my head to Kastor and mumble,

"Um, so, Kastor.... can you please release me?"

"Then you owe me."

"Ok."

Ten minutes later, I'm standing at the traffic light waiting for it to turn green. My hands are tingling. This time, I hope no one is following me.

I suddenly hear Dr. Park's yell, "NO! PATIENT, COME BACK OR YOU WILL GET THE ANESTHETIC SHOT!"

I don't care about his warning. Nothing is holding me back anymore! Au revoir! Sayonara!

I quickly run across the street, but was stopped by the sound of a truck approaching, and it's not braking any time soon. The last thing I see are red lights. I didn't think this through, did I?

All of a sudden, I am pushed to the left by an unknown force, and in the next moment, I am caught in a kind of trance in which there is no up or down, front or back, and no turning back.

Helpless, bound by my powerlessness and the restrictions of my flesh cage, I can only watch powerlessly as Doctor Park is hurled away from the collision with the metal monster from the view of several camera perspectives in slow motion.

Suddenly, the flow of time and my senses return back to me. I fall head first onto the hard asphalt. I hear tires squeaking. Then a dull thud. The nurses scream. I stare at the ground, morbid images swirling around in my head.

My life feels like being flagellated on a hellish wooden roller coaster.

Without a seat belt, I'm transported up by pulley and then plummet like a projectile at a 90° angle into the ninth circle of Dante's Inferno. Hell's vengeance boils in my heart.

Just when I thought I had survived the vertical fall downward, the next sharp left turn came. Then the right one. After that another double inversion, and at the head chopper my head really gets chopped off, until the chain finally breaks due to a technical defect and cuts my legs off like some kind of swinging guillotine.

The roller coaster breaks down thereupon and my corpse drops from a 200m height with 500 km/h like pigeon shit on the hard concrete floor, where afterwards the carnival workers, to whom the 16-hour job with minimum wage has robbed every little breath of happiness, wipe away my disfigured body thoughtlessly with a rancid mop, so that their boss, who wants to make easy money from this questionably cheap tourist attraction, does not beat them up verbally again.

In short - shit.

I look up in panic. Dr. Park is lying wounded where I should have been. He sacrificed himself for me? No... why did I kill someone again, and why him of all people?!

To the dramatic theme music of "Bring Me To Life" by Evanescence, I rush to the doctor. A thick puddle of blood has already formed around his head and I can feel my heart beating faster.

"Shit!", I hear a voice from behind, the snooty nasal one of Marx, "That's disgusting."

"Oh no, the street is filthy!!!!", Stalinus cries.

Aren't they paramedics?

"Girl! You're really not in a position to doubt my competence.", Marx says, making a Britney Spears snapping motion. Can he read my mind?! Is he a VSCO-girl now, too, or what?!

"Ye-ahh.", Marx says, dancing like a Spice Girl.

(Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me)

Now Kastor enters the scene as well.

"Kaithleen is coming in with me. It was my fault. I should have known you should never be let out."

He takes my hand and a strange feeling washes over me. Fatherly love?

All of a sudden I hear a snap and a white light blinds me. I see a slim brown-haired girl shooting pictures with her black camera on the pavement, "Woah, this is totally going to get million likes on Insta! #Kdrama #motherwillbeproud #trivialoffense."

She laughs shrilly and then scurries into the hospital as fast as a field mouse.


	20. Retirement Home Arc: Morgue

Once upon a time in a land before ours, a girl named Victoria Gonzalez was sneaking her way through the magical corridors of the Wonderland, as she often does.  
In her bag, her trusty companion Instagram.

"Oh my Gosh sksksks.",  
VSCO Girl Angela Merle, wearing a nurse's uniform, hisses,  
"What are you doing in the morgue?"

Victoria is snapped out of her reverie,  
"I'm, uhh... I'm in medical school."

Angela Merle begins to laugh out loud,  
"Ohhh, I see. A corpse desecrator."

"No.", Victoria replies, pushing past VSCO Girl. She doesn't have time for brainless conversations. She's here on Instagram's behalf, among other things. After all, the likes don't come on their own!

"Show me your Instagram account first.",  
Merle challenges,  
"Let's see if I don't give you away sksks."

Immediately, Victoria turns around again and pridefully presents her entire page. Exclusively mirror selfies and food pics greet Merle,  
"And how many followers do you have?"

"Five but I'm already really hip! Yesterday, there were only four!"

Merle then shows her account. She has 3004 followers.

"Wow, your Instagram looks a lot...", Victoria hesitates, "Totally stupid. who wants to look at pictures of the Eiffel Tower and turtles!"

Merle looks sadly at her phone,  
"Do you really think the Turtles aren't totally kawaii?"

"Ugly deformities and now leave me alone. I have a holy mission!"

With her camera, she crosses the room.

Here somewhere should be the carcass of the other victim of Darko's evil machinations, Julio. Julio Caesar S., son of Julius Plato S. This is all the information her mother has fed her. She has no pictures of Julio. Only his name is known due to some research work done by the Secret Service in the old people's home, but this deceitful institution seems to want to hide his existence for some reason.

The mission is clear to her, of course. Vilification through the media. Scandal à la Marie Antoinette. Kaithleen Darko must die.

When this Korean doctor is brought in, too, Victoria can finally pull out her weapon, the camera, and take a nice little picture for the press, for her mother, and of course her loyal followers on Instagram.

Victoria goes deeper into the morgue in search of Doctor Park and a boy she doesn't know named Julio. Actually, she doesn't really care about the boy. Doctor killed by insane patient... That would make better headlines since nurses dying isn't something very new in her opinion.

"Brains."

"What, VSCO girl!?"

“Braaains!"

Victoria screams. Louder than ever before. She is scared, what an irony, scared to death. If she was really going to die in the morgue, that would actually be pretty convenient....

"Insta gal!?"

Her heroine on horseback comes to her rescue, VSCO girl!

"What's wrong?"

"There... there... the body is talking!", she points perplexed at the moving white sheet about a hundred yards away.

"Oh, a code red. Someone's rising from the dead. Jesus Christ. Guess that means we will die! Holy moly, maccaroni!"

“Are you mentally-”

"BRAINS!"  
The sheet is propelled against the wall in a quick jerky motion.

"WAAAH! A GHOST!", Victoria screams at the top of her lung and quickly turns around to make her escape. But she it fails, as she crashes into VSCO Girl in the process who has just stood there stubbornly the entire time, not even taking the danger seriously.

"Keep calm and be calm, gurl. No panic on the titanic! We can try to talk to him.", VSCO Girl says to the panicked girl and reaches out her right hand to help her up.

"No thanks!", she replies and stands up on her own.

She turns to the long-haired zombie, "Wait. Isn't that just a human, only with a blue skin color?"

VSCO girl tries a diplomatic approach, "Heyy, what up? Peace and stuff? You want my hydro flask?"

"I swear if we get killed by an oversized smurf zombie mutant in a morgue I'm gonna take this fucking hospital apart and drop a prophylactic nuke on it! Why isn't this one at least green?!!! How embarrassing is that, PLEASE? Who thinks 'Oh, no. Two girls died in a tragic accident because a BLUE guy ate them!' No one can take that seriously!"

"Don't be racist!", VSCO Girl admonishes.

"SHUT UP!"

A silent tear runs down the zombie's chin.  
"Brains. It's not my fault I was born this way. Brains..."

Victoria is about to burst from exasperation, "I'm sick of this!"

She gets behind VSCO Girl and points a finger at the zombie,  
"Kill it! Right now!"

Angela Merle looks at her with an indignant face, "I can't hit corpses! This is necrophobia and disturbing the peace of the dead. Furthermore, it has herpes!"

"I don't care if it's a corpse or whatever! Kill this dead girl or else I'll bludgeon you, you simpton!"

The zombie looks confused, "Brains. Why a girl? Besides, I don't have herpes... Brains..."


	21. Retirement Home Arc: Black Sunday

It's Sunday, what a black day.

The detective looks at the pictures of the crime scene with heavy half-open eyes. A doctor, a car, a crying girl. But what stands out the most: a communist!

He must have expropriated the doctor's life, as communists always do. That filthy fop! Those dirty pigs...

He feels the rage and the hatred and the torment.  
He's sooo angry,  
"Ay'll find y'all, y'all communist!"

_________________________________________________________ 

"Why don't we just sksksk take a look on the dead guy's name?",  
VSCO girl suggests.

"Because sksksks that's not so easy!"  
Victoria Gonzalez counters, snapping her fingers.

"Brains... I'm Julio Caesar S."

"Shut up, who asked you?!",  
Victoria shouts,  
"I wanted the doctor and not a… a… smurf knock-off!"

"Keep Calm.", Merle smiles, trying to cheer her up.

"So, what now?!", Victoria asks, inwardly irked by VSCO's fruitless attempt.

"I don't know, sksksk. Maybe we should ask the American detective over there!",  
VSCO girl points at a man who is eating cake in the middle of the morgue.

"If y'all are hankerin jus eat cake!",  
he says without context and adjusts his sunglasses,  
"God darn! What do ay see?! Is that a bluh man? He looks like he fell out uh thuh ugly tree an mash every branch on thuh way down and hit with an uglee stick for good measure!"

"Ugh.", Victoria grabs her forehead in annoyance and rolls her eyes, "Now there are two who speak stupidly..."

"Pituitary gland...", a growl chimes in from the far corner of the hall.

"Sweet baby Jesus! What thuh hell was that?!?", The detective reaches for his AK-47 and pulls it out.

"Yessss!!! The doctor!",  
for the first time in Victoria Gonzalez's entire life, she rejoices. Nice.

She then runs straight at him with the camera.

"Stop, youngun!" the detective who for some reason acts like a cop yells, aiming at her head, "Get 'own or I'll fill y'all with lead!"

"Shut up!", Victoria replies angrily, then turns back towards the zombified doctor, "I have some questions now! Who killed you?"  
She holds her camera ready to shoot.

"Stop, or I'll shoot!", the detective warns again.

"And I said shut up!"

The Korean zombie scratches his head in confusion, "Who am I? What am I? With what consequences am I? Pituitary gland... No... memories..."

"What!?", Victoria eyes widen in shock, "So you don't remember anything?!!! I can't believe it!"

"Insta girl, keep calm.", the detective interferes, "I'm tryin tuh aim."

"Shut up!"

"It's logical sksksk!", Angela Merle interjects, "He suffered a brain contusion due to the accident! 3rd degree brain trauma!" 

The dead doctor wobbles around, aghast, "Pituitary… gland... I remember my sister. She... she needs me. I was supposed to pick her up from school. But she's dead!"

"Gosh darn, Daniel.", the detective mutters under his breath.

"Okay, okay, but I don't give a damn!", Victoria shouts in a rage.

"Peace! Peace! Peace and love!", Merle laughs.

"Brains... so if anyone cares, I got killed by Kaithleen and now I'm a zombie."

Victoria jumps up and down, visibly driven insane, "Shut the f-ck up. Who asked you, you blue booger!"

"Wait. That makes sense. He is blue an has bin killed by a girl named Kaithleen. Blue = cops. Ah, ay see, he must have bin killed by uh communist girl, too! That means, she an this here one weird guy are surely communists workin together... Yes, it must have bin part uh those damn communists' puppet shows!",  
the detective shouts with his incomparable and infinite intellect.

He then shakes his fist at the sky, tears streaming down his face,  
"Forgive me, Holy Trinity, Mother Maria, Joseph an all thuh other saints. How could ah be such a sheep? Curse you, y'all nasty communist brats! Better dead than red!"

"Oh, no!!! Kate would never do such a thing! Make Kaithleen Great Again!", VSCO-girl retorts.

"Now, skedaddle tuh thuh police stashun, y'all little gangsters. Y'all thank god ah didn't massacre y'all."


End file.
